


Jail time for the good guys

by androgynousclintbarton



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousclintbarton/pseuds/androgynousclintbarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning: Art may have been damaged in the making of this piece of work.</p>
<p>Melinda never wants to take Phil to an art museum again, especially for a mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jail time for the good guys

Ducking her head under the roof of the police car, Melinda frowned a she watched Phil being led into the seat beside her “Fury is never going to let us hear the end of this”

                “Nick will poke fun at us” He pointed out “Director Carter however…she’s going to murder us”

“I still can’t believe you did that”

“It was right there” he protested “and I was being attacked, what was I supposed to do?”

“Use your gun. You know, that side arm you were issued when you became an agent”

“I dropped it in the fight” she glared over at him “I know, rookie move”

“Now Fury is going to murder you”

“I’m sorry ok?”

“Tell that to the artist who’s painting you just used as a baseball bat” she hissed at him.

“Hey!” A baton smacked the bars that separated the front seats from the back “Shut up back there!”

                Raising an eye brow over at his friend Phil laughed softly under his breath

                “I hate you” she mouthed over at him angrily, huffing when he stuck his tongue out at her “child”

                “Part of my charm” he mouthed back at her

“Is the other part your use for that tongue? Or is Agent Samson full of shit?”

“Phil’s face went beat red as he sputtered, producing nothing but nonsense and making Melinda smile in triumph.

* * *

 

                Being led back into her cell after the call she had requested, Melinda growled to herself, taking a seat on the bench and crossing her arms over her chest.

“So?” Phil leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, looking at her from the cell across the hallway “what’s the verdict?”

                “Maria wouldn’t stop laughing when I explained what happened” she kept her voice low as she spoke, not wanting to attract attention to them “and they’re not sending pick up until tomorrow morning so that we can ‘think of what we did wrong’”

                “What are they, our parents?”

“Considering you need some, I’m guessing they have decided to take the job on themselves”

                “Maria is our age”

                “You make up for it with your childishness” she huffed

“So says the women who couldn’t get us out of Jail”

“Excuse me?” she glared at him from across the room “I’m not the one who got us arrested!”

                “It was an ugly painting anyways and it helped take down a bad guy who they arrested and took credit for”

“They don’t care. They just went in for the arrest” she huffed to herself “Just…relax and get comfortable for the night”

“Hard to get comfortable when you’re so far away” he grumbled to himself, leaning against the wall behind him

     “If you don’t upset the officers anymore I’ll let you cuddle me in bed tomorrow”

“I just asked for water” he cringed when she leveled him with another glare “ok, ok. I’ll be good and keep my mouth shut”

“Good. Save your mouth for… more important activities”

                Raising an eyebrow Phil smirked at the sound of that and closed his eyes as he thought about the next day and what to do with his freedom.

* * *

 

   Throwing his jacket over his shoulder the next morning Phil huffed as he grabbed his wallet and his dad’s watch, putting the watch on while he headed to the door with Melinda and Maria talking in front of him.

“Well look who survived a night in the slammer” He looked up to see his SO propped up against a shield issue car “Bravo idiot, Director Carter is fuming”

“ya ya, I’m in shit. What else is new” he waved his hand dismissively, smiling when Melinda got into the back of the car.

“oh you’re not just in shit kid” he raised an eye brow at his SO “you’re on desk duty for a month”

“oh come on!” he protested “it was one stupid painting!”

“that the artiest wanted to charge you over when she found out” Nick explained “luckily your SO is a kind caring man and paid her the amount that she was asking for the ugly thing”

“What are you going to do with a broken painting exactly?”

    “I was thinking a house warming gift” Phil’s face paled as he thought about his new apartment waiting to be moved into

“No…no no no. I want nothing to do with that thing”

“That’s ok, RnD is already working on repairing it for your bedroom” the other man smirked, watching as Phil squared off his shoulders

“I hate you…”

“It was either that or go to prison again”

“I still hate you….”

“aww Jr, you’re going to break your old man’s heart” he heard Melinda laughing in the back of the car as Nick spoke “now get in, we don’t want to be late to the director screaming at you”

    “Maria, please for the love of all that is good, shoot me now” he grabbed his friends arm and begged, only to have her pull her arm free and smirk.

“You forgot Phil” She said softly “I don’t believe in anything good in this world” she smirked before getting into the front passenger seat and leaving him standing there in horror.

   “Look on the bright side” Melinda said as he got into the back beside her and melted into the seat, doing his best to disappear in it “A month of desk duty means of month of breaking in every surface of your new apartment”

    “Hey! No nasty talk back there!” Nick protested while Phil smiled at the thought, leaning over and kissing Melinda’s cheek gently

   “Table first?” he smirked as Nick attempted to drown them out with music

“I was thinking couch, but table works too”


End file.
